Horror

Night of the Owls
Leaves crunched underfoot as Zenia hurried home. It was too late to be out. Too dark. The moon was the barest sliver in the sky, giving only the faintest light. Her brother would be worried. As would her mother, though she wouldn’t show it.
By Rebecca Johnson4 years ago in Fiction
He hoots
There are moments in kinship that can extract the purest aether, where all energies converge on the most common of pain’s trickery: beauty or.. faith. Sir, that ye of little fortress! They pray we can regard any tale with the most complete superstition from which it had been told. Here is my current torment.
By Don T. Bradford4 years ago in Fiction
Minutes Till Dusk
Minutes till Dusk inspired by true events It was the beginning of fall and we had recently heard a rumor of a cool new app that was created. It was said that if you wished hard enough for something that you wanted the app would lead you to it. Immediately after hearing about, it, I hopped onto the app with my boyfriend. We decided to manifest something of monetary value. We were planning to take a trip to the deserts of Nevada. We said why not, let’s take a chance and see where this takes us. We both have always been the free-spirit adventurous type of people. We love the sense of adventure. So, we hopped onto this app figured why not give it a try. We had both been charging our phone devices getting ready for our trip and filled our tank with gas. We figured we were set. We set on our journey with no intentions but to find something valuable and just have a good time.
By Daysi Chiqui4 years ago in Fiction
An Unnamed Woman in an Unnamed Town
I was being followed by someone wearing my hair. Not someone with hair like mine, not someone whose length, texture, color, whatever was close to mine. My hair. Mine. I knew because I had pulled it from my head myself.
By J4 years ago in Fiction
The Ghost Owl of Bel-Air
Dear Diana, I heard her again, minutes before lunch break. I’m sure of it this time. Nadia and I had been working on our ballads, the same ones from last week.
By Yashi Gaur4 years ago in Fiction
He's the One
Tara stepped off the plane, this was it, she was finally here. Tara had been dreaming her whole life about this trip. For as long as she could remember Tara had wanted to take a trip to Scotland. There had always been something about the scenery, the sounds, and her ancestral connection that was driving the want to visit. She had set up the trip for her 40th birthday, the best part of which involved their accommodations. They were staying at Law Castle in North Ayrshire for an entire week. Law castle sat on the slopes of Law hill of the edge of west Kilbride.
By C.T. COLE4 years ago in Fiction
The Owl
By this point in the ceremony, the fire was roaring as if possessed by the devil himself, the socializing between villagers was coming to an end, and most of the villagers were dressed in their white gowns. It has now become time to continue on with the towns' oldest tradition, simply referred to as "The Ceremony", this one night of every year, the town celebrates their founding and prays for a good harvest by human sacrifice. The unlucky individual who is picked is crucified on an upside down cross and lit upon fire. Every year, when the offering is on the cross, the villagers always have the same reaction. They stare at the offering as if entranced by the fire, so much so that they cannot even hear the cries of agony from the towns "lucky" sacrifice. When the cries of terror end and the fire begins to dwindle, the town rejoices and embraces each other with happiness. Another successful ceremony and the hope for another successful harvest in the coming year.
By Connor Stermer4 years ago in Fiction
The Wings of Death
Long ago in the land of the Keldoni, in ancient times when men still feared their Gods and mystical creatures ruled the nights...
By Joseph Duncan4 years ago in Fiction
13th September
After a long few days out of town and finally closing a few deals, it felt so good to be back in the city again. My city. Breathing in that polluted air. Yep, that was New York for you on any given day of the year, but on this crisp day in September, it felt different somehow. The energy felt different- not so hostile during rush hour. It was going to be a good day.
By Ashanti Mckenzie4 years ago in Fiction
Menagerie of Fools. Runner-Up in Return of the Night Owl Challenge.
In just a few years, the two boys would speak to each other for the last time, even though as grown men they would always live no more than five minutes away from each other.
By Victor Ing4 years ago in Fiction
Omen
I don’t know what drew me to the woods that night. I just had to leave. I had come home after a completely normal day. I woke up, clocked into work at the mall, clocked out, and came back home. The routine of the day had run its course and never once ran off the rails. I returned to my apartment, sat my bag down on the kitchen counter where an old coffee stain refused to come off, slipped off my shoes, and collapsed onto the couch. I stared at the popcorned ceiling for a couple beats, then sat back up to turn on the TV.
By River Raine4 years ago in Fiction
Frozen Chaos
Frozen chaos. It was the only way the detective could describe the scene before him. Turned chairs, torn wallpaper, and shattered pieces of stone and ceramic scattered across the floor like an intricate jigsaw puzzle painted the picture but remained as silent as the body lying amongst them. The detective slowly stepped through the room, taking deep care to avoid disturbing any part of the grim scene, and let his eyes scan methodically over every corner. Books strewn about, a fire poker, papers with bizarre drawings scrawled across them in hard pressed pencil, a small decorative pill box next to an overturned glass of wine pooling its dark red contents around a cracked tablet; these were just a portion of the tools the detective had to work with. As he approached the body lying face down on the white carpet with a halo of blood staining the fibers around it, the detective crouched to get a better look at the man whose poor fate marked the centerpiece of this macabre scene.
By David Angell4 years ago in Fiction